


Changement

by Pippin



Series: Patater Week 2017 [4]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Ballet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 03:03:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9638123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pippin/pseuds/Pippin
Summary: "And, you know, we’re spending an entire month dancing with the New York City Ballet."





	

Alexei peered out the window as the plane touched down, eager for his first glimpse of the United States.  Alina, seated next to him, laughed.

“This is only the airport.  Wait until you see the city proper.  It’s exactly how America looks in movies and shit.  And, you know, we’re spending an entire month dancing with the New York City Ballet.”

“I know, I know,” Alexei replied.  Of course he loved the Mariinsky Ballet, but it had always been a dream of his to dance in America.  And now it was coming true.

* * *

Walking into their first class at NYCB was ridiculously stressful.  It shouldn’t have been that bad—it was just another ballet class—but there was a difference between heading into class with your own company and heading into a room of English-speaking strangers.  There were only a handful of Mariinsky dancers in their particular class, and as they entered the studio the NYCB dancers started whispering among themselves.

Alexei glanced around at the other Russian dancers.  Alina, Anya, and Evgenia were holding their pointes tightly and Dmitri was glaring at the Americans.

One of the male dancers, a lean man with messy blond hair, stepped forward.  “I’m Kent, one of the principals here,” he said slowly in slow but nearly perfect Russian.  “It’s nice to have you.”

“You speak Russian,” Anya said, confused.

Kent shrugged.  “I spent a couple summers training at the Bolshoi while I was still at SAB.  I picked a bit of it up.”

“I’m Alexei,” Alexei said carefully in English before introducing the other four Russian dancers with him to their American counterparts.

Before any of them could say any more, they were called to begin barre work.  Alexei found himself a place behind Kent and tried to focus on his pliés, his tendus and dégagés and fondus and everything else.  Honestly, it was lucky that he’d been dancing for as long as he had, as he found himself relying far more on muscle memory than he should have been.  It wasn’t like Alexei wasn’t focused in on ballet, he was just more trying to wrap his head around finally being in the United States.

To make matters worse, there was something almost poetic about watching Kent dance,  It was no secret to Alexei that he liked men, but he was used to the ones he danced with, used to how they moved and all.  Kent, however, was new and Alexei couldn’t take his eyes off him.

The two companies had been working on the same ballet for a while now, one that they were going to perform together.  And, wonder of wonders, Kent and Alexei, as the top male dancers in their respective companies, had both been assigned the same part, one that they would swap off over the run of the ballet.

Alexei knew the part forwards and backwards, but seeing Kent dance it with Alina felt like he was seeing the pas de deux for the first time.  Never mind that it was far from flawless—Alina usually partnered with Alexei, who had fifteen centimeters on Kent, and, as such, she was having to make adjustments on the fly to compensate for the change—it was still entrancing.  Kent’s height wasn’t too much of an issue, though, as he was strong and technically brilliant.  There were obvious differences, of course—NYCB used the Balanchine technique taught at the School of American Ballet whereas Alexei had grown up in the Vaganova School and with their technique.  But, if Alexei was honest, the audience probably wouldn’t know the difference.

* * *

After class Alexei tried to snag Kent, but the American dancer had vanished off before Alexei could do so.  Alexei wanted to go looking for him, but instead he was gathered in with the other Russian dancers and taken off to the hotel before being given a curfew and free rein.

Along with some of the other Russians, Alexei headed out to Times Square, set on experiencing the sights and sounds and smells of New York City.

It was everything that films and television had made it out to be.  Loud, bustling, everywhere the sound of English and signs that Alexei could barely read.  It was a lot to take in, almost too much.

Before long a combination of the overwhelming force of Times Square and the jet lag got to Alexei and he begged off to return to the hotel and rest.

Once he got there Alexei collapsed on his bed, dead tired.  The day had been a lot, from traveling to taking class to going into the city.  He had been running on adrenaline, but now he was crashing and needed to sleep before class the next day.

* * *

Thanks to going to bed early, Alexei missed the announcement that class wasn’t starting until noon, so he was at the studio at nine. 

Shrugging, he changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt.  He was there anyway, might as well do some work. 

Alexei went through a quick warmup before getting into jumps.  He was a fantastic jumper; it was his specialty.  He started with small jumps before getting higher and higher, eventually ending up all but flying.

He was so absorbed in his routine that he didn’t notice the studio door opening and closing.  He landed a jump, turned to grab his water, and was treated to a view of Kent, wearing only a pair of tights, standing at the barre, folded entirely in half, nose to his knees and tucking his hands under his feet.

Kent noticed the silence and spread his feet slightly, looking up at Alexei from between his own legs.

“Do you mind?  That I’m here, I mean.  I can leave if you want.  But I started watching you—and holy shit, if I could jump like that—never mind.  I started watching you and you seemed cool and I’m…yeah, never mind.”

He rolled up—the ripple of his spine was hypnotic in a way that Alexei hadn’t thought it could be—and then slid into a split, arching backwards over his leg.

“I don’t mind,” Alexei replied, unable to take his eyes off Kent as he went through a series of stretches.  And then, before he could talk himself out of it or think better of what he was about to say, “why would I mind getting to watch a pretty boy stretch?”

Kent froze, then climbed to his feet abruptly as Alexei cursed his running his mouth.

“You think I’m pretty?  Like, in an ‘oh, he’s so cute and tiny’ way or that I’m _pretty_?  Or is this some weird thing in Russian that I never learned?”

Kent didn’t seem angry, just in shock, so Alexei took a deep breath to steel himself, then switched to English to make absolutely sure that Kent understood him.

“I’m like boys.  I’m like pretty boys who are very…”  Alexei lost the word he wanted in English, so he said it in Russian.  “гибкий.”

“Flexible,” Kent said, staring at Alexei.

“Flexible,” he repeated, storing the English word.  “I’m maybe wanting to kiss pretty flexible dancer boys.  But is not possible.”

“Okay, so what if there was a flexible dancer boy who would be _totally cool_ with you kissing him?”  Kent shrugged.  “I like all genders.  It’s not a consideration for me.  Attractive people are attractive people.  And you’re definitely attractive.”

Alexei’s brain short circuited for a moment.  “You…I…attractive?”

Kent laughed and sat on the floor, pulling off his shoes and going through his bag.  “Yeah, definitely.”

As Alexei worked through that—he could actually kiss this guy?—Kent was doing something on the floor.  By the time Alexei was back in the present moment, Kent was—well.

“It’s good strength training,” Kent said defensively as Alexei stared at him in _pointe shoes_.  “Plus, to be honest, I like it.  I mean, yeah, it hurts and wow girls are intense for doing this all the time, but there’s so much use here.”

“I’m not judging,” Alexei said, slipping back into Russian.  “It’s hot.”

Kent laughed.  “You’re hot.”

“I’m not the bendy one wearing pointe shoes and shirtless,” Alexei protested, then froze as Kent walked over to him, placed his hands on Alexei’s shoulders, and rose onto pointe.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yeah,” Alexei replied eloquently, then everything stopped as Kent gently pressed his lips to Alexei’s own, and then did it again and again.

* * *

Having to leave New York at the end of the month was hard.  The Mariinsky was dancing in other big cities across the United States before returning to St. Petersburg and Alexei didn’t want to leave Kent.  The time they had shared had been amazing.

“I’ll Skype you.  And text you.  You’ll be sick of me,” Kent said as he kissed Alexei goodbye in the entrance of his apartment.

“And you’ll come to Russia to visit.”

Kent laughed.  “That too.  Long distance relationships suck, but we’ll make it work.”

* * *

As Alexei watched New York City fall away, he contemplated all the change that just a single month had brought to his life.  It was amazing and he couldn’t wait for more.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I have a lot to say about this one. First off, changement means change. It's also a ballet jump, which is why I used it as the title.
> 
> Next up. I danced for fourteen years, so hopefully the ballet stuff is accurate, but that being said, I never danced professionally. I chose to pursue a career in forensics instead of ballet.
> 
> The reason that Tater's speaking seems so good most of the time is that most of the time they're speaking Russian! I think I made that clear, but in case I only think that because I wrote it, now you know.
> 
> I don't have a visual for you on Kent as a dancer, but I do for Tater: Mikhail Baryshnikov. Holy shit, that man. For the scene where Kent finds Tater practicing in an empty studio I directly pulled from a youtube clip called "Baryshnikov practicing jumps."
> 
> Most men don't dance en pointe. However, some do for strength and shit, which is what Kent is doing here.
> 
> Additionally, if you're a hockey fan, don't read too much into one of the dancers being named Evgenia. There actually used to be a dancer named Evgenia (Obraztsova) with the Mariinsky, although she largely dances with the Bolshoi now. I watched a documentary called Ballerina, about Russian dancers coming out of the Vaganova Academy and into the Mariinsky Ballet, a while ago and so that and Alina were names I remembered.
> 
> Lastly, I kinda really like this verse, so if you're interested in seeing more of it, let me know.


End file.
